


As Always

by InnerSpectrum



Series: December Ship and Gen Challenge [6]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: AO3 Facebook Group Challenges, Christmas Fluff, December Ship and Gen Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-22 09:58:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17057663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnerSpectrum/pseuds/InnerSpectrum
Summary: A glimpse into the ritual of the most dangerous personal assistant to the British Government





	As Always

**Author's Note:**

> Written for: December Ship and Gen Challenge: Day 4 - Morning ritual (Gen)

It was ritual.

One borne of years of necessity for the life she lived.

The smell of coffee drifts and wakes her, as always.

She woke up quick, but she moved slow as her eyes took in her surroundings. Somewhat en garde even in her privacy and security of her own flat, it was second nature.

Slowly she pushed her covers away as she rose, her eyes still roaming, her ears listening for anything. Her bedroom, one of the few places she has spared no expense in luxury – she earned it after all – was quiet as always.

She stretched wide enjoying the feel of it as she walked the interior and checked every window, and the door. After what happened in ...

_No, we don't think about that anymore..._

She absently rubbed her hand across the small scar from that mistake as she made herself a mug of coffee and brought it with her as she finished her circuit.

Once satisfied, within thirty minutes she was showered and dressed, a chic black suit and killer heels, as always.

As she picked up her hair brush, her eyes fell upon the music box and she grinned.

Last year’s Christmas present. 

The outside was a traditional wood casing painted white, decorated with delicate blue and gold flowers. Everything one would expect from a classic ballerina music box. The inside was silk lined in a horrid neon green, the “ballerina” reinterpreted as a classic ‘80’s rocker, complete with wild flowing hair and wearing neon pink and black zebra print spandex. Instead of turning in a pretty circle he rocked forward and back, giving life to the microphone and stand held away from his head thrown back in a classic rockers primal scream. The chip inside played nearly two hours’ worth of classic hair band rock songs. All because he overheard her tell a colleague how much she hated the hairbands of the 1980s.

Like the giver, its looks were deceiving. Expensive, well-tailored bespoke suits on the outside – insane genius within.

_Only him._

The thought of him automatically snapped her back to routine. She twisted the little knob exactly three times - her new as always - and finished her hair.

She had things to do, like wash out her mug and place it on the drainer, as always.

Oh, she played the slightly airhead to perfection in public, but she was a powerful woman in her own right. She held many secrets in her beautiful head. She held access to so many more in the palm of her hand. She also knew the secrets she held were a pittance to the ones held by her boss. For a note of whimsy, she put small ruby studs in her ears.

_‘Tis the season after all. It will be worth it for the potential eye roll._

With one last look around the already formidable walls she learnt to make even more so at the master's tutelage to protect them both rise instantly as she individually checks and then straps on the concealed weapons she has license to carry. 

Finally, her hand reaches out for it - the end of her morning ritual and the true start of her day - her mobile.

She took a deep breath and quickly scanned it. She sent texts and emails, received confirmations before she placed the call - the call she placed at exactly 4:45am, as always.

“Good Morning Mr. Holmes.”

“Good morning, Anthea.”

And so, it begins, as always.


End file.
